Things change, but people stay the same

If there is one simple, persistent message of "The Sopranos," it's that you can get a new haircut, switch jobs, find another lover, embrace some new self-help philosophy, but no matter how much you talk about it, at heart you're going to be the same person you've always been. (And if you're a character on this show, chances are that person is pretty rotten.)

Here's Tony, slowly recovering from an incident that by all rights should have killed him. He's talking a good game, chatting up the visiting evangelicals and the friendly scientist down the hall, telling a nurse he doesn't feel like his old self. And yet he's sneaking out of the hospital for stogie breaks, getting chesty with Phil Leotardo and basically ruining the life of the Barone family so he can protect his own interests.

And here's Paulie, who receives the kind of information that should fundamentally alter his sense of self, and how does he respond? With the same woe-is-me, the-world-owes-me-some-ice-cream-cake attitude he displays under even the best of circumstances, blaming his own mother for the crime of taking him in and raising him, blaming Jason Barone for the bigger sin of having a biological mother who loves him more than she loves life itself. (You'll note the $4,000 a month shakedown is the exact cost of keeping Nucci in Green Grove.)

And in case we doubted the depressing moral of the story, there's Tony sitting at the curb outside the hospital, declaring, "From now on, every day is a gift," as Janice - the show's poster girl for staying the same deep down, no matter how often you repaint the facade - rolls her eyes at him.

Sure, Tony may have forgiven the paramedic for picking his pocket (assuming the guy really did it), but the whole scene reminded me of that sequence from "Schindler's List" where Schindler persuaded Amon Goethe to show power through mercy - which lasted for about three scenes before Goethe got bored and went back to shooting people in the head.

Everyone has a selfish agenda. Tony's being friendly to Aaron, a man he once threw food at during a Thanksgiving dinner (he was Janice's narcoleptic boyfriend in Season Three), because he's looking to acquire a Get Out of Purgatory Free card. Deluxe's manager is happy his client got shot because it'll boost record sales (and his cut). Hesh's daughter is fond of born-again Christians, but only because they're supportive of Israel. The insurance rep smiles and flirts with Tony, but she just wants him off the company books. About the only person who's not blatantly looking out for number one is Bell Labs retiree John Schwinn, so of course he suffers a fate worse than death: a man who loves to talk (and is good at it) robbed of the ability to speak.

We still have 16 episodes to before the end, so maybe Tony could genuinely learn from his mistakes. But if there's a character changing right here and now, it's Carmela.

When she warned Tony about Vito, it was the first professional counsel she's offered him in the series. For her entire adult life, she's tried to enjoy the spoils of Tony's work while holding herself apart from it. But after she confessed to Dr. Melfi last week that she had no illusions about Tony's career - and that she was attracted to that part of him in the first place - maybe she's prepared to become less Kay Corleone and more Lady Macbeth.

Remember what I wrote two weeks ago about the two separate but occasionally intersecting groups of "Sopranos" fans? Well, last night's show had Tony debating metaphysics and quantum mechanics with his hospital neighbors and analyzing the meaning of Ojibwe philosophy. But it also had Paulie beating a guy with a lead pipe and Bacala shooting a rapper in the behind. Something for everyone.

(When I complimented David Chase on that particular balance, he shrugged and said he and the other writers don't set out to structure episodes that way; either it happens in the writing process or it doesn't.)

Some other random notes on "The Fleshy Part of the Thigh":

The show has done the gangstas-who-love-gangsters story before, back when Christopher was hanging with rap star Massive Genius in season one, but like the reprise of the Christopher in Hollywood theme last week, this was funny enough to excuse the rehashing.

Did you catch Paulie busting out Ralphie's pronunciation of "whore" ("hoo-er") when he was berating Nucci for lying to him? Don't forget that one of the last things Ralphie did before he died was make an obscene prank call to Nucci. Ah, the circle of life.

More fuel for the theory that the Costa Mesa scenes were all a creation of Tony's own unconscious mind: He sees a "Kung Fu" rerun on TV and mentions he used to watch it as a kid, which could explain what bald monks were doing in his Kevin Finnerty fantasies.

And so, AJ has followed his inevitable career path: clerk at Blockbuster. How much do you want to bet he sits around all day watching the soft-core R-rated thrillers?

Even if there hadn't been all those scenes building up to it, was there any way that Take Your Son To Work Day lovefest with the garbageman and his kid was going to end well?

So who's Tony's biggest problem this year: Paulie (who's looking out for number one more than ever), Vito (who has his eyes on the throne), Phil (who's still bitter over Tony B. killing his brother) or Johnny Sack? With the series headed towards the finish line, it's nice that Chase and company didn't feel the need to import another character actor as this season's Special Guest Villain, but are relying on people we already know.

Did that look exchanged between Meadow and Jason Barone mean anything more than two attractive young people checking each other out? Hey, if Vito ever manages to pry Finn away, Meadow's going to need a shoulder to cry on. Plus, she's been a good heat shield for innocent guys in trouble with one of Tony's captains.